The Tree Of Dreams
by hazy-buttons
Summary: The biggest surprise of all is what comes from the past. FxI One Shot. A possible fluff. Rated K plus, for safety.


**Author's Note;** Hey you! Yeah, that's right you guys. All of you who have read, reviewed and favorited me/my stories; **_THANK YOU._ **I was almost certain of the fact that nobody would even notice my FFs. Oh but you've made me so happy!_ FINGRID/ FILLMORE! SUPPORTERS LET ME LOVE ALL OF YOU. _Here's a the long awaited 3rd FxI one shot, enjoy :) I also -possibly- have a 'Coraline' one coming up -for those who are interested-.

About the FF; Ingrid and Fillmore are 11th graders. Note that in this FF they know each other from 5th grade -I wanted to make it last longer :P- and -for those who are wondering- they do have a Safety Patrol in High School. Also, it's Fillmore's birthday [if the end confuses you..]_ I know. It's not that obvious. _** So...without further a due; I GIVE YOU THE FF! **

**DISCLAIMER; I do not own Fillmore! all credit goes to Scott M. Gimple and Disney.**

* * *

The sun was rising above the trees. The almost perfect combination of yellow and dark blue up in the sky and the smell of wood and wet grass; A beautiful day for early morning excursions.

Avoiding yet another bush, he slightly bawled, stumbling on a branch. One more _itchy twitchy_ scratch.

That day, he had also understood that he hated scratches, for he was all covered up in bloody, red spots.

-'Thanks a lot, Ingrid.' he mumbled.

Of course, his partner wasn't anywhere near. She had given him something that looked more like a 'treasure hunt map' than a helping hand and he in fact, wasn't pleased.

Fighting with the 'flora' and struggling for his freedom, he ran across the 'green jungle'. Small sticks hitting his unprotected face and the almost cold morning wind blowing in his face. A violent adventure.

The many left and right turns made him feel dizzy, but he couldn't, and certainly wouldn't give up, and that only because he was; Cornelius Fillmore, finest in of all the cases.

He warded off the last bush and there he was; paralyzed, staring at the view.

It was a mesmerizing glade, surrounded by tall poplars, so quite phantasmagoric in he's eyes. He gasped.

So there she stood, her black 'raven' hair now surprisingly looked brown-ish, hit by a rather dim ray of sun. Her pose; relaxed and wonderfully predictable. She was leaning against a tree, abstractly playing with her hair. Her clothes, different as well; bright green, baggy, cameo pants, a simple -almost boring- black t-shirt which -from what Fillmore could distinguish- had 'BLUE MONDAY' written on it with big, white, bold letters. _-New Order. Ingrid loved New Order.-_ And last but never least her black combat boots, she would never change a thing about them.

She gazed at him in rapture.

-'Took you long enough.' she giggled.

-'Save it.' he responded, cheerless. 'What am I supposed to do with these?' he showed her his right hand which was of course full of small red bruises.

-'Oh...well they look good on you.' she tried to be as convincing as possible. 'if that helps.' it didn't help.

-'It's painful. And don't try to quieten me, Third.' he raised an eyebrow. The typical Fillmore move that most of the times would make Ingrid snicker.

-'Gee, mister surly.' she lowered her tone. 'I promise I'll make it up to you.'

He smirked.

-'You've already done something.'

She glanced at him with a puzzled look on her pale face.

-'What? At least your here, I no longer feel lost.' he gave her a smile. That smile of his, she admired. It would always force her to feel loved and important and that was something she didn't feel often. She grabbed his hand, extremely casually.

-'What are you doing?' he seemed baffled.

-'I don't bite Fillmore...' she exclaimed fractiously. 'Come on, I have a surprise for you.' she pulled his hand making his whole body follow her. He didn't back off.

Trees, bushes, green, all over again. Fillmore usually adored nature but now the look on his face spoke of his feelings; disgust. Little did he know that, that very peculiar girl would surprise him once again.

-'Aye, next time you have a surprise, please try not to suck the life out of me.' he murmured.

She turned around and showed her teeth drowning a hiss in her throat. She'd often remind him of a cat, a mysterious green eyed creature that slips through dark and walks on the rooftops. The thought of Ingrid's 'cat form' that had subconsciously crossed his mind started to soften him.

-'Right...' she paused. 'I'm gonna need you to close close your eyes.'

-'What? What for I-' she then cut him of by taking his right hand and placing it on his eyes.

-'Just do it.' she sighed in partly despair, and partly excitement. She then, as expected, grabbed Fillmore's left hand and led him the way. Her heartbeats raised as she had suddenly realized the importance of that event. She wanted everything to be perfect and she wouldn't let anything destroy it. What she found inside that forest had once been sacred to both of them, besides 'now' seemed like a perfect time for surprises.

He felt her footsteps settle down.

-'Open up.' she inhaled quietly.

And he did so. He was petrified, frozen, covering up his mouth with his hand -that very hand Ingrid had dragged over his eyes earlier-

-'Ingrid...' he stuttered, unable to find the correct words to express himself.

Beyond him rose a tall tree with branches almost as many as the clouds up in the sky. And on it, a big, old, tree house and despite its partial spoilage, it looked perfectly structured.

-'The Tree of Dreams.' she smiled.

He looked at her, then glanced back at the tree, they both had something in common but he couldn't quite determine what it was. His eyes blinked, watery. He felt weak on the knees and his heart was 'on flames'.

-'Our...old...' he stammered.

-'home.' she had found the last piece of the puzzle. 'Such cliché' thought Ingrid.

-'How did you...'

-'Photographic memory.' she chuckled and her tone became one with the sound of the wind. 'You know, now I can finally understand why you always thought its name was stupid.' she broke the sudden silence.

He shook his head without feeling. Her remark was _stupid_. Back then he'd always say something to irritate her, but now after so many years he had finally fully understood that name and its reference.

-'Have you been inside the tree house yet?' he responded belatedly.

-' Of course not!' she exclaimed. 'I was waiting for you.' after that followed a mild and decent looking smile, it nearly made him melt.

He automatically snapped up her loose hands and walked towards the tree.

-'Is this ladder...you know, safe?' she doubted.

-'Lets find out!' great. The brave Fillmore. He let her climb up first; "I'll catch you if you fall" he had told her. Typical. And so, luckily they were now both on the top, the base of the tree house.

He lightly punched her on the shoulder.

-'The view looks fantastic.'

-'Forget the view.' she said while taking a small, black key out of her pocket.

His eyes widened.

-'You had it all along?'

-'In theory...yes. But I thought I had lost it on that 'intense' field trip 4 years ago' she said in a low tone. 'Then I found it inside a trunk, in my attic. And I wanted to find the tree house...so I searched for clues, and I succeed.'

**_He wanted to hug her, thank her, hold her tightly...but instead he said;_**

-'You're a grand detective, In, remember that.'

She lightly blushed and turned around, facing the door and unlocked it carefully, revealing a pitch black space that smelled like old wood and campfires.

Rapidly, she opened up her small, black, leather backpack and grabbed the first thing she saw; a silver torch.

-'That should do it.'

She turned it on and they both nearly jumped in startle. The room was almost empty but its walls were full of sketches and colorful photos, letters and poems. In the corner there lied a bunch of old books and next to them 3 boxes.

-'Everything's here! And it seems untouched!.' Fillmore nearly screamed in excitement.

Ingrid was silent, wandering through the room. She approached a wall and spontaneously ran her fingers across an old, tatty photo; it was her and her partner, gently hugging her from behind. Now they were both smiling at today's Ingrid. 'Frozen Memories.' she quickly formed a sentence in her head.

-'Hey Ingrid?' Fillmore's voice stopped her thoughts. She neared him immediately.

-'Look, it's your poem collection.' He pointed to the wall in front of them. She was still speechless, staring at the shabby and full of calligraphic letters, paper sheets. She had always loved dealing with poetry. But her eyes were caught on that particular one called; 'Partner'

**Partner.**

_Like a rainfall to a raindrop._

_Like two cells that form a soul._

_When his fingers wrap around mine,_

_We'll at once forget the world._

So simple, yet so meaningful it nearly made her shed tears. **_She wanted to hug him, thank him for everything he had ever done for the both of them, hold him tightly...but instead she said;_**

-'Well, I've always admired poetry...'

Another minute full of almost dead silence.

-'Hey...' she said while glancing at a box. 'check this out.' She tried to drag it out but then she felt a pair of smooth hands on hers. She blushed and pulled away, letting him do all the work. He brought it closer to her and they both bent over. She decided to take the lead and opened up the box. Inside there lied something that looked like an orange Middle School Safety Patrol sash, a golden badge, a piece of paper and a black booklet. They both took all of the stuff out.

-'No, it can't be!' she called out. 'My first ever Safety Patrol sash, my old badge!' she held the items with both hands. 'They're from when I had first signed on to the force!' she looked at him only to come up against a monadic looking smile.

She slightly hesitated when she saw him taking out the white piece of paper. It was a photo, a plain image that spoke of so much.

It was her and Fillmore, she was holding up her orange sash with a huge grin on her face and he was forming a 'peace sing' with his left hand.

The picture was unique. Ingrid's gaze froze and so did Fillmore's. They had both completely understood how much they loved each other for nearly everything. The many moments they had spent together cracking cases, laughing, bragging, talking. And none of them knew anyone else better than the other. And that day, that day was just like heaven. Partners. Partners in life.

He threw himself on her and wrapped his hands around her neck as she slowly wrapped hers around his back and they both just sat there, motionless, unmoving, holding onto the heavenly caress.

_He unwillingly had to let go._

She looked down at the photograph once again, and handed it to him making their fingers touch.

_She unwillingly backed off._

-'Happy Birthday, Fillmore.' she whispered rather cunningly.

_And indeed; it was the happiest and most unusual Birthday of his life._


End file.
